


War Stories

by sundancekid



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Office (US)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-02
Updated: 2008-03-02
Packaged: 2017-11-10 05:02:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/462475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sundancekid/pseuds/sundancekid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pam, St. Mungo's, the Order, the war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	War Stories

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://festschrift.livejournal.com/profile)[**festschrift**](http://festschrift.livejournal.com/). Huge thanks to [](http://lianhanshee.livejournal.com/profile)[**lianhanshee**](http://lianhanshee.livejournal.com/), [](http://wordplay.livejournal.com/profile)[**wordplay**](http://wordplay.livejournal.com/), and [](http://sophia-helix.livejournal.com/profile)[**sophia_helix**](http://sophia-helix.livejournal.com/) for the betas. This is, strictly speaking, a fusion, not a crossover; it takes place on the _Harry Potter_ timeline ( _Order of the Phoenix_ takes place during the 1995-1996 school year, and so on), and all _Office_ characters are British, not American. This fic contains spoilers for _Deathly Hallows_.

Pam's entire family had always been Hufflepuffs. She wasn't even nervous about whether she'd get in, too, because what else would she be? She was not brave, nor ambitious; she was smart, but more than smart, she was friendly and hard-working. She never entertained any doubt about being placed in Hufflepuff, and sure enough, the third person onto the stool, the Hat needed only a second to declare, "HUFFLEPUFF!", making her the first of that year. She blushed as the table cheered, and walked as fast as she could across the Great Hall to sit down.

She was a fourth year when Roy Anderson asked her out. Of course she'd known him since first year, his second year, and their families were friends, because his parents had been in Hufflepuff with her parents. It seemed easy, obvious, natural. Roy was funny, and sweet, and he loved her. Pam had no reason to think it wouldn't last forever.

\-----

_August 30, 1995_  
Two Aurors come in for treatment; one, a young woman named Tonks, has a nasty burn up her right forearm, while the other has a line of painful welts across his cheek and neck. They barrel right past the desk, because Aurors don't need to sign in, and they don't need to be told where to go for treatment. When the door opens Pam stands, readying her Welcome Witch smile, but at the sight of their robes she sits back down. They know the way.

She hears, afterwards, about how long it took the welts to stop reappearing, about the faint scar Tonks will probably always have, about how these were _malicious_ injuries and they were lucky they weren't killed.

"Well," Dwight Shrute says, "it's obvious." His declaration is met with silence. They've all heard that Albus Dumbledore and the Boy Who Lived are claiming You-Know-Who returned last month, and that Minister Fudge is insisting it's nonsense. The _Prophet_ 's implying -- sometimes outright stating -- that Dumbledore's gone 'round the bend.

Dwight is a Healer on the first floor, creature-induced injuries. He's sort of insane and power crazy, but he's really good with dangerous creatures, which Pam thinks is probably pretty telling.

He says, "I always knew You-Know-Who was going to return. Pure evil is hard to defeat."

Stanley Hudson, a Healer in Artifact Accidents, says, "He's not pure evil, he's just a man. A dead man." He goes back to his crossword puzzle.

Roy agrees with Fudge; "How old is that guy, anyway?" he says. "Needs to retire." Roy works for a parchment company, the _Prophet_ 's and Flourish and Blott's main supplier. He does deliveries. Pam has been working as St. Mungo's Welcome Witch ever since she graduated from Hogwarts; she'd gotten the grades to become a Healer, but hasn't yet taken the required certification courses.

But Dwight is convinced Dumbledore is right. Pam's parents are, too. Her father says Dumbledore is crazy like a fox. "It's the paper that's wrong, not dear Albus," her mother says.

Opinion about Dumbledore and Harry Potter is sharply divided at St. Mungo's -- it's all they talk about anymore. They had a staff meeting to review official Ministry policy, and were encouraged not to think about it anymore, but of course they all do, all the time. Many of her coworkers were there for the first war, they know what Voldemort did better than most. Some are prepared to face that terror again, and others aren't.

\-----

_November 2, 1995_  
Bill Weasley comes in one day. He was in her year at Hogwarts, and even though he was a Gryffindor and she was Hufflepuff, they've always been friendly. They were prefects together, before Eleanor Abbot got made Head Girl instead of her.

"Hey, Bill," she says. "What brings you here?"

"Visiting a friend," he says. She's always thought he was cute (though that hardly separates her from every other girl in their year), but he's seen better days: he looks exhausted, and she wants to order him home to bed.

"I thought you were in Africa? For Gringotts, right?"

"I transferred back home," he answers. His eyes dart right and left, so quickly Pam wonders if she imagined it.

"Your parents -- how are they?" he asks.

"Um, fine?" she answers, confused.

"How are they feeling about -- about what's happening lately?" he asks. His knuckles, gripping her desk, are white.

Her father, two years away from retiring, is head of the Invisibility Task Force, Roy's cousin is part of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, her aunt is an Auror. The Ministry is wizarding Britain's biggest employer; Pam knows bureaucracy. The Weasleys are distant cousins through her mother, and her father and Mr. Weasley spent a few weeks one summer attempting to learn to golf together; they only stopped when the enchanted golf clubs started chasing chickens across the Weasleys' yard.

"It's ridiculous, isn't it, the way people think You-Know-Who has come back?" she asks, wearing her very best Welcome Witch smile. "Everyone's making such a big deal out of it. Dumbledore's really too old to still be Headmaster, I think."

Bill nods, once, his eyes clouding over, and Pam would give almost anything to speak her mind, to hear his next question, to know what he knows. But she keeps smiling and says, "Your friend is on the fourth floor, hang a right."

He heads off, and she's already off shift before he comes back down.

\-----

_December 19, 1995_  
As long as Pam lives, she'll never forget the sight of Arthur Weasley being carried into St. Mungo's, unconscious and bleeding. His head lolls to the side, mouth open, and across his chest -- Pam got an O in Care of Magical Creatures, and she still can't imagine what sort of monster would make those marks. His robes are torn and barely hanging on him anymore, and the man and woman carrying him are so tense they look ready to snap.

Pam, of course, isn't involved in the actual healing; bitterly, she thinks of the certification course deadline, which was last week. Roy says they don't have the Galleons right now, for her classes or their wedding. It takes two years of coursework to get even basic certification, and the next round of classes won't be until the fall. He said the same thing last year, and she'd really hoped that this year, she'd finally get started.

Phyllis Lapin, one of the Healers on the second floor, comes down eventually to tell her he'll be all right; Phyllis is one of the only people who ever makes an attempt to keep Pam in the loop.

Molly Weasley comes down twenty minutes later, looking more haggard than Pam's ever seen her. Pam hands her a tissue and offers to get her some tea, but Molly says, "Thank you, dear, but I'd just as soon get home and tell the children."

Pam thinks of her own mother, and impulsively reaches out to hug Molly. Molly resists for a few seconds, and then sags down into her.

"Thank you," she whispers. "But the children, they're waiting."

\-----

_January 25, 1996_  
Unspeakable Bode's death takes the whole ward by surprise. It's not that patients don't die, they do, but they're never _murdered_. The idea that someone smuggled Devil's Snare into the ward disguised as a Christmas present, to strangle a man no longer able to speak... Pam hasn't felt this unsafe in years.

She's shocked to see Miriam Strout go, crying, carrying her belongings; she's taking the blame even though everyone agrees that this isn't the sort of thing Healers are trained to look for. Pam still can't understand how this happened.

For the first time, it hits home: this is what war looks like. Pam wipes her eyes furiously, all afternoon, because you can't cry when it's your job to welcome people to the hospital.

\-----

_February 27, 1996_  
The _Quibbler_ interview of Harry Potter is all anybody's talking about this week. Dwight, a longtime subscriber, brought it to work the day it came out, and since then every break is dominated by it. Jan held a meeting to tell them she'd rather they not discuss it at work, to remind them the Ministry has come out officially against the nonsense in that article, but it doesn't do any good.

In his picture on the cover, Harry has a small, embarrassed grin, as if he'd rather not be posing for the photograph at all, and Pam is reminded that the Boy Who Lived is only fifteen years old. He's worried about OWLs, probably girls, too, and he plays Quidditch, she knows that. Fifteen is already such a hard age, especially for a boy so famous. Fourteen years ago he was the most celebrated baby in the world, and now the whole world thinks he's a lying lunatic.

\-----

_April 3, 1996_  
Bill's in, again, to see another friend. Pam's got her suspicions about the revolving group of people who all seem to know each other in odd ways and come in with defensive wounds, but she's not saying anything. What would come of it?

\-----

_July 24, 1996_  
The hospital is in as much upheaval as the rest of the world. With Fudge out and Scrimgeour in, there are new bureaucratic procedures to implement. There's meeting after meeting about security plans, exit strategies, signs someone is under _Imperio_ , signs someone is not who they claim to be. They set up complicated passwords and codewords, and Dwight tries to insist everyone get special tattoos that can't be replicated -- he wants them to get the St. Mungo's emblem of a crossed bone and wand tattooed into their thighs. Luckily, that idea gets shot down.

Pam used to play pranks on Dwight, just because he deserved it. She'd only been at the hospital a few weeks when she started messing with him; she has a lot of time on her hands. Two years ago, she convinced Dwight the Unspeakables wanted him for a top secret mission, and had him fill out several questionnaires about his fitness for the task. Last year she convinced Dwight that a rash of patients had "pretendinitis," a dangerous ailment that affected their hearing.

But she hasn't done that in months. It feels wrong, now, because even if Dwight does go out of his way to make her life hard, he's doing good work, he's trying, and he was brave enough (for certain values of brave) to admit he believed You-Know-Who had returned long before anyone else. She still doesn't like him, but that seems sort of stupid, these days.

\-----

_February 18, 1997_  
Roy says they can't possibly think about getting married while there's a war on.

He's right, Pam thinks, sitting at her desk with her head propped on her hands. She hates her job. She hates smiling.

Roy's job is going better than ever, since the _Prophet_ 's numbers are way up. He got a raise, too, though they cut his vacation time. "Where would we go, anyway?" Roy says, and Pam thinks, _France, Spain, America, anywhere there's not a war on_ , but she doesn't say anything. Pam's working more hours at St. Mungo's too; their numbers are also up. It's getting harder to smile and greet people whose homes have been burned, who are there to claim the bodies of loved ones. She's never found her cheerful greeting very useful -- no one _wants_ to be at the hospital, they're never happy to see her -- and so she's largely abandoned it. She just wants people to feel safe.

\-----

The thing is, life goes on.

\-----

_April 16, 1997_  
"Pam, can you go to the Llewellyn ward today? Pye's out; family emergency." Pam's boss, Jan Levinson, looks up from her clipboard, mouth tight. Jan is the head Healer, second only to David Wallace, head of the hospital, in the chain of command. She's a strict, no-nonsense sort of witch, very good at breaking bad news gently but honestly. She's also an excellent Healer and while patients don't always love her, they're generally glad to have her taking care of them.

"Of course," Pam says, thrilled. This is a chance at advancement. She wants to work in Spell Damage, eventually, if she can ever get around to taking the classes required for certification. Pam smoothes out her work robes and stands, trying to look professional.

"Smethwyck's already up there," Jan says. "She's terribly upset, of course."

That's when it clicks; Pam was so focused on her chance to work on the first floor, she didn't process the second part. "Family emergency?"

Jan nods, eyes dark. "Pye's mother is Emmeline Vance's cousin."

Pam blanches. Emmeline's murder is all over the _Prophet_ , and she met Emmeline once, years ago. "I had no idea," she whispers. "My God."

Jan nods once, mouth tight. "Things are going to get worse before they get better," she says. "I worked here last time -- third floor, back then. I remember what it was like."

Pam remembers last time too, of course; but where Jan was in her thirties, Pam was eleven when You-Know-Who went away. She was a first year then, and the party at Hogwarts had lasted a week -- no classes, feasts every night, parents coming to visit. Her own parents had rushed up to the castle as soon as word came families were allowed, and they'd hugged until Pam couldn't breathe, laughed until they cried, told stories about Pam's aunt and uncle, murdered by Death Eaters for arresting Yaxley as he left his house one morning. Pam remembers that week as one of the best of her life; never had she felt safer or more loved.

Her code question is, "What did you love to draw when you were little?" and her answer is "birds in flight." Roy's cousin in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement got hexed badly a few months ago and is still off duty. Pam's aunt, an Auror, lost an eye last year and wears an eyepatch now. Pam worries about all of them, and the delivery of the _Prophet_ in the morning has become a tense event; she and Roy scan for familiar names first, and only after they don't find any can they relax.

\-----

_August 1, 1997_  
A Kneazle dies. He was found lurking outside St. Mungo's two weeks before, and Phyllis brought him in. "Look at him, he's starving," she said, as he glared out from her arms, and even though Kneazles aren't, strictly speaking, the most sanitary of creatures, he stayed. They called him Sprinkles, and Dwight swears Sprinkles is the one who knew that wizard last week was really under the Imperius Curse; he wouldn't stop hissing at the man.

They hold a funeral for Sprinkles. They bury him in the back corner of the courtyard, and even though he was only around for two weeks and kind of annoying the entire time, there are several Healers softly crying.

Jan asked Pam to "throw something together" for this -- in a voice that said she clearly thought the whole thing was ridiculous.

"What do we know about this Kneazle we called Sprinkles? You might think, not much, he's just a Kneazle. But we do know some things," she starts. "We knew that he wanted to stay in our building, that he liked trying to trip people, and that he didn't trust wizards under _Imperio._ And while his time with us was brief, he will be missed. He will not be forgotten."

Someone behind her sobs, once, hard. "Everyone always dies," she hears. Pam waves her wand over the ground, and Sprinkles' grave fills itself, the top smoothes out, and there's a single rock on top.

"It's not fair," the Healer repeats. "Everyone always dies."

Everyone troops back inside, and back to work.

\-----

_September 1, 1997_  
Pam still thinks of the year as starting on September first, the day you go back to Hogwarts. Even after all these years out of school, that's the calendar she lives her life by.

That's the day she breaks up with Roy, moves back in with her parents. She wishes him well, but she can't pretend they're ever going to get married, ever going to give each other the kind of wild joy she wants. She can't imagine wild joy ever finding a place in her life at all, and certainly not while You-Know-Who is here, but still. This is something she has to do.

She speaks to Jan about the certification courses, and Jan points out that the deadline was a month ago. "But we're always short-handed these days, so there's room for you on the floor. I know you have talent, Pam."

At least once a week, Jan asks her to work with the Healers -- she mostly changes bandages, but it's infinitely more rewarding than smiling and directing someone who's been hexed by a Death Eater to the correct floor. At least she's _doing_ something.

Bill Weasley comes in, again, and sees her comforting a teenager who was poisoned. He watches for a minute before saying quietly, "It's ridiculous, isn't it, the way people think You-Know-Who has come back?" He's deeply scarred now, in a way that makes Pam wince slightly to see, and he looks more tired than ever, but he's still smirking.

Pam flushes, looks for something, anything, to say.

"Are you interested, now?" Bill asks. "We have people, doing things. We're fighting."

Pam is silent, and the seconds take forever to slide by.

"Pam!" Jan calls. "I need you."

Pam turns and walks off, as quickly as she can, her heart in her throat.

\-----

_November 10, 1997_  
Her Auror aunt dies. Pam's not working when she's brought in, and she'll always be grateful for that, that she got one last night of decent sleep before she heard, that she didn't have to see her beloved aunt brought in on a stretcher. It's the only thing she can think of to be grateful about in a life that's otherwise bleak, that stretches on and on in both directions, boring and small and afraid.

She tries to tell herself that it's like this for everyone, everyone is afraid, these are the choices you have to make to survive, these are the compromises. She tries to tell herself: everyone goes through this, everyone lives this.

She thinks about owling Bill, but she doesn't.

\-----

_December 24, 1997_  
Christmas on the closed ward is never fun, but this year the misery feels palpable, hanging over the heads of everyone in St. Mungo's. Last week there was an incident at the Ministry of Magic (someone interrupted court proceedings and helped a bunch of Muggle-borns escape) and precautions are tighter than ever. They're talking about instituting toilet entrances at St. Mungo's too, but they haven't, yet. Dwight thinks it's a great idea.

Gilderoy Lockhart gets eighty-seven Christmas cards and three hand-knitted stockings. Michael Scott tries to take one, and it takes Pam half an hour to convince Lockhart to give it to Michael. Michael used to be a low-level manager in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, but he took the fall for a mix up with a fake Nigerian prince, and spent three weeks in Azkaban over it. Even though he was pardoned, he was deemed unfit for society after his short time in prison; he lives happily on the Janus Thickney Ward, coloring, fighting with Lockhart, and playing his steel drum. The only thing Pam's ever heard him say is, "The worst thing about prison was the Dementors."

She tries to remember that he basically means well, and that he can't help himself. And that it's Christmas.

Pam's parents put up a tree, but they keep the doors locked and the curtains closed, and they don't put up any lights. For presents, it's the best Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes has to offer in self-protection. They abandon the family tradition of pulling crackers because of the noise.

That night, she finally owls Bill. She writes, _I'm ready._

\-----

_February 9, 1998_  
The things Pam's always hated most about her job turn out to be the handiest. No one ever notices the Welcome Witch, no one thinks twice about having conversations in front of her, no one realizes she sees everything and everyone that comes and goes. Pam's invisibility becomes her greatest weapon.

It turns out, Dwight is in the Order of the Phoenix too. Pam is... surprised.

"I am a Gryffindor, Pam," he says, eating his sandwich in the break room. "I have always stood up in the face of evil."

And he's actually, basically right.

The Order is a shifting group of teams and partners and groups and Pam's working two jobs now. She's the Welcome Witch, but she's also the Order's inside source at the hospital, and she's talking to people, feeling them out, figuring out who knows what, who can do what, who might want to join them. And she's learning more and more Healing every day; she's not just changing bandages, she's making potions and performing spells, really helping save lives.

Nearly every day, she and Dwight meet briefly to discuss everything they noticed at St. Mungo's. Molly Weasley is her contact in the Order, the person she gives her information to and receives instructions from. Pam and Elphias Doge stake out a Ministry employee's house to see if he's under the Imperius Curse (he isn't). She and Hestia Jones follow a Quidditch star to see he's working with the Death Eaters -- he is, and they get into a firefight. Pam tries not to fidget while Phyllis patches her up (that's all she needs, because she was able to stop the bleeding before they even got to the hospital, hers and Hestia's), feeling a little ashamed but a lot exhilarated.

\-----

_March 21, 1998_  
"Greetings, and welcome to this edition of _Potterwatch_! We broadcast a few weeks ago, but we've got our new secure location all set up and we'll be able to broadcast regularly now," Lee Jordan says, leaning into the mic. The "secure location" is Pam's parents' house, in the ancient cellar. Pam and her parents spent the last two weeks preparing the room with every protective spell they could think of, and Pam's been proud to be able to offer it to the Order, and to _Potterwatch_.

"This is River, comin' atcha with the news of the day. First, we unfortunately need to update you on some deaths you may not have heard about, what with the _Wizarding Wireless Network_ and the _Daily Prophet_ following the party line."

Pam sits quietly next to Lee; Remus Lupin sits on her other side, and George Weasley stands across the room, fiddling with an aerial.

After the minute of silence for all those, wizard and Muggle, who'd passed away, Lee claps once and says, "Listeners, you're in for a treat tonight, because we have a special new guest tonight. Honey is going to give us a primer on treating injuries -- it's essential to know how to defend yourself, and it's essential to know how to heal yourself." Lee nods to Pam.

Pam reaches for the small mic and says, "Hello, _Potterwatch_ listeners. It's an honor to be invited here tonight, and I'm glad to get this opportunity to talk about the basics of Healing with you. While River is right, it's essential to know the basics, I urge you, if your wounds are serious, to get yourself to St. Mungo's as quickly as you can -- and I promise, you are still safe there. St. Mungo's holds."

"Now, Honey, what would you say are the most essential healing spells the average witch or wizard needs to know?"

Pam can hardly believe she's giving medical advice to thousands of people; Pam can hardly believe anyone thinks she's qualified. Her voice shakes slightly, but she remembers every spell she wanted to share, and when she's done, Lee says, "Thank you, Honey, and listeners, I hope you were taking notes. The information Honey gave you tonight might just save your life."

Pam flushes, pleased and proud and a little scared.

"Well," Lee says, after Lupin gives his update on "Pals of Potter," "that's all for tonight. We'll be back soon, and the next password's 'Hedwig.' So stay tuned. Keep each other safe: Keep faith. Good night."

\-----

_May 1, 1998_  
The Patronus appears underneath her desk. The lynx (Kingsley Shacklebolt's) says, "We're headed to Hogwarts, there's going to be a battle. Stay where you are, we're going to need you."

Pam grips the desk and forces herself to breathe.

\-----

She misses the battle. She waits at St. Mungo's (Dilys Derwent runs back and forth from her portrait at St. Mungo's to her portrait at Hogwarts, with news), feeling wound so tight she can't expand to breathe. It's a long night.

In the morning, she and several other Healers Apparate to Hogsmeade and walk to the castle, and she spends four long days treating patients there. She'll always wish she could have seen Harry Potter cast the spell that killed Voldemort in person, but he tells her about it himself as she bandages him, and that's good enough.

At the end of the week, back in London, Jan awards her a Healer certificate -- "emphasis on your outstanding field work," Jan says, handing her new lime green robes. Pam is too tired to cry.

They hire a new Welcome Witch, and Pam moves up to the fourth floor.

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://annakovsky.livejournal.com/profile)[ **annakovsky**](http://annakovsky.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kyrafic.livejournal.com/profile)[**kyrafic**](http://kyrafic.livejournal.com/) put [](http://festschrift.livejournal.com/profile)[**festschrift**](http://festschrift.livejournal.com/) together, which has been awesome for the fandom, so props to them. My prompt was: _Pam: "I am this great, unstable mass of blood and foam." (The Mountain Goats, "Autoclave")_. How that turned into this... I still cannot quite say.
> 
> Feedback/con crit greatly appreciated.


End file.
